


a poison more deadly

by theamazingbard



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 04:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamazingbard/pseuds/theamazingbard
Summary: Geralt gets a contract.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> people have asked me to put this on ao3. i've resisted due to formatting because the story was told entirely through lowercase and shit punctuation. i hope y'all like it. 
> 
> blame alex.

Geralt gets a contract. 

There’s a monster out there of unknown origins. It’s suspected that they’re either tied to revenge, karmic retribution, or spite. Geralt hasn’t heard of such a thing before, but he investigates. If this is where the Path brings him, then so be it. His hunt takes him a long way across the Continent. 

People are grateful for the rumored monster. 

People hate them. 

Most of all, they fear the entity. 

All the mixed stories leave Geralt unsure what to do. If they’re sentient, he’ll have to talk to them. Let them know that they can’t murder as they please– even against terrible humans. 

He traces them to a decently sized village. A scorned wife admitted to having set the monster (a man, she corrects him) on her unfaithful husband. 

They would be at the tavern tonight.

It’s not so crowded. 

He spots the man, the mysterious monster almost immediately, sitting and chatting with the ill-fated husband. Sweeping brown hair, gently curled. A seductive and inviting grin. Clever fingers running up and down the other man’s arm. 

Geralt stares in confusion.

It had been ages since he last saw Jaskier. and from the wide look in his blue eyes, it was clear that Jaskier hadn’t expected to see him. 

For once, they can both agree that this is the _worst_ contract Geralt has ever received.


	2. Chapter 2

Once their eyes had met, Jaskier apologizes to his latest victim, and practically storms all the way upstairs. 

Geralt follows after him. Would have done so even if it wasn’t a contract. It’s been months (a year?) since he last saw the bard. To see him now, to know that he’s the one Geralt has been hunting... it’s unsettling. 

The inside of Jaskier’s room looks different than Geralt expected it to. 

His clothes are strewn everywhere, wrinkled and un-cared for. The lute is tucked in the back corner, and there’s a small layer of dust on the case. Usually, Jaskier has the scent of someone lingering on him, around him. Here there is none. 

Geralt shuts the door behind him and turns around slowly. 

“What are you doing here?” Jaskier asks flatly. 

He's thankful that he still has the original contract, tucked away into a pocket. It's is starting to fray at the edges. Slowly, he holds out the parchment. 

Jaskier snatches it away and reads it quickly. he huffs out a sigh, crumples the contract into a ball and tosses it to the ground before looking up. “What does this have to do with me?” 

“Jaskier,” Geralt takes a step forward. Jaskier only holds his chin higher, standing his ground. “I know what you’ve been doing.” 

“Is that so?” He snorts. “I don’t really see how that’s any of your fucking business. Nor why you would give a fuck.” 

The words sting and they’re meant to. Geralt wouldn’t expect anything less, especially after how they left things. It shouldn’t matter here, however. He’s not here as an old acquaintance: he’s here as a witcher. “You can’t kill people, Jaskier. you can’t play hero just because someone gave you a sob story.” 

“Can’t I?” Jaskier crosses the room and begins to gather his clothes. Two sets of doublets, both an angry red, and shoves them into a leather bag. “That’s what you do. And _I_ do it for free. I’m providing a service.” 

Geralt can feel his medallion begin to hum, a small shudder. He resists the urge to run his fingers against the silver. Resists further from taking hold of his sword. Whether it'd be silver or steel is still in question. (He doesn’t want to find out.) “What happened to you?” 

Jaskier whips around to face him. Blue eyes begin to glow an icy gray. “You don’t get to ask that.” The room drops in temperature; Geralt can see his own breath when he breathes out. 

The medallion quakes. 

“I can help you,” Geralt finds himself saying. “Jaskier, let me-” he’s thrown back against the wall, feet only just able to touch the ground. Invisible, unyielding bonds hold him in place. 

“Do not speak to us as if you know who we are,” His voice is fractured. Demonic. “You will not stop us from our work. You will not follow us. And you will _not_ pretend to be our friend.” Jaskier steps forward. “This is your only warning, Geralt of Rivia.”

The temperature drops further. Geralt, usually a furnace, breaks out into goosebumps. He stares down Jaskier for a moment. There are so many things he wants to say, things he wishes he could express. 

Even if he did, Jaskier might be too far gone to hear him. 

And so Geralt is left struggling in place as the bard, and whatever the fuck is possessing the bard, pack the rest of his things and escapes out the door. 

It feels like hours later when Geralt drops down to the ground, landing flat on his ass. He presses his head against the wall and signs deeply. 

The contract is still crumpled in a ball, a few feet away. If jaskier’s work is unfinished, so is Geralt’s. Fortunately, it won’t be hard to track him; his scent is so familiar to Geralt that he’d be able to track him from the barest hint of his lavender perfumes. 

Even now, it clings to a forgotten possession left in the corner: Jaskier's lute.


	3. Chapter 3

As promised, Jaskier’s work continues. He’s managed to kill a woman who lied to her best friend over some perceived grievance.

The woman’s best friend was in tears. She assured Geralt that she hadn’t meant her deceased friend any harm. Only that she had felt hurt and wanted her to hurt as well.

Then, jaskier showed up offering revenge.

This murder was more flippant than the rest. The Jaskier Geralt knew was petty, had even wished for a djinn to snuff out his bardic rival; but that had been when he was drunk. Geralt can’t imagine Jaskier committing a murder with his bare hands over hearsay.

Geralt must put an end to this.

In town, there’s another contract set up. The price is even higher this time.

Geralt readjusts the lute case and snatches down the parchment from the bulletin board. There’s no way to tell if another witcher has been through here, or even will find his way through this part of the Continent. He stuffs the contract into his pocket and focuses on his mission.

The trail leads north. He continues onward and Geralt begins to wonder what lead to all this in the first place.

If he’s to blame.

Jaskier isn’t bothering to be subtle. At least that much hasn’t changed.

But the telekinesis, the chill in the room, and how Jaskier spoke. We, us, our… it’s a bit how a doppler would refer to themself. But Jaskier is no doppler. Is this new, or has he been hiding his abilities for all these years?

Thinking back, Geralt can recall few times Jaskier spoke of his past, of his family.

Would Geralt have listened if he had?

Fuck.

He’s letting his emotions cloud his judgment. Geralt can see Vesemir’s disappointed face now.

No, Jaskier wouldn’t have been able to hide such abilities for so long. Something has taken hold of the bard. A curse of some sort. 

As Geralt approaches the next town Jaskier has crawled off too, he senses someone near by. They are making no effort to conceal their footsteps, nor their scent. Each deliberate step eases Geralt’s anxiety.

“Fancy meeting you here, ‘White Wolf',” Lambert says with a grin. “Don't tell me you're here for this?” He holds up a contract on Jaskier’s head. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr at theamazingbard. 
> 
> or don't! i'm not the boss of you. 
> 
> xoxo


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